


Disgusted

by Drixel



Series: Rowvember 2019 [1]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 09:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21268550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drixel/pseuds/Drixel
Summary: Matt dies and Maero runsOr; Em tears someone's throat out with her teeth.





	Disgusted

She can't believe she just did that.

Blood dripping from her chin, her words ringing in her ears as Maero looks like he's about to piss himself.

"_You've got until the taste of blood leaves my mouth to **die**_."

* * *

It's was time! Time for that fucker to die.

Em stared at the Brotherhood hideout with a glint her eye. Turning to the sea of purple behind her, her army, she called;

"For Carlos!"

"For Carlos!" They called back, surging forward, guns blazing. The two Brotherhood who'd come out to inspect the noise were taken by surprise, falling dead before they were hardly out the door. From there it became full on carnage. Left and right, Brotherhood and Saint alike were engaged in all out war. But Em only had her eyes on the prize.

Maero.

He ducked into a stairwell, but she was in no hurry. The only way was up. She'd get him sooner or later. Some no-name in red tried to rush her, coming from the side with a sledgehammer but she fell dead with barely a glance, a nine millimeter lodged neatly between her eyes. To her right, one of her Saints, Jeremy Fletcher was getting overpowered. Not stopping her march towards Maero, she took aim, dispatching two of the three assailants why Jeremy took care of the third, shouting his thanks as she continued through this..._ hazard to health and safety_.

Seriously, the floor needed a good sweeping, rusted nails were coming out of the wall supports, broken furniture littered the floor, swaying hooks she supposed were for punching bags but were low enough to take out an eye or two, broken pipes were leaking onto the floor, and the roof looked like it was about the come down, and that was just the bits of roof that hadn't, if the various piles of rubble beneath make-shift skylights meant anything. And she was pretty sure she could see rat droppings on various areas of the floor. 

Hearing Maero's voice above her, she rushed to the nearest rubble pile, scaling it and jumping up through the hole, only to catch a glimpse of him again as he ran behind. Fucking coward. 

His lackey gave a shout as she grabbed his ankle to pull herself up, and him down. He let out and anguished scream as he landed on some pipe, impaling him through the stomach. He squirmed, trying to pull himself off, but only succeeding in pushing himself down further, screaming all the while, begging to die.

Em, though cruel, was not merciless in most circumstances, swiftly ended him, before moving on. 

* * *

She took note of the dead as she went, the currently tally being Saint: twelve Brotherhood: thirty. She'd killed fifteen of those herself.

Poor Jeremy only made it to the third floor, though she couldn't tell if it was because he succumbed to his wounds or someone got a lucky shot. Bastards.

She could mourn later though. She'd finally made it to the roof. 

Finally, there was no where left for that bitch to run.

Finally, Carlos could rest easy.

Which is what she would've liked to say if she was currently hiding from an onslaught of bullets, courtesy of the _fucking minigun_ he had hidden up there. Because _of course_ he had a fucking minigun.

Just her luck.

The few potshots she'd risked from her position landed her with a very sore hand and a ruined tank top as she tried to stifle the bleeding. 

Soon the hail of bullets stopped, the clicking of an empty gun and the tinkling of spent casings falling to the floor filled the air. But before she could take a steady aim, the minigun came flying towards her. Her gun discharged as she turned to avoid it, the only acknowledgement that she'd hit her mark, _barely_, was the slow red stain dripping down Maero's forearm as he punched her hard enough to knock her on her ass, make her head spin, and knock her gun and advantage from her grasp. Asshole.

Who brings a fist to a gun fight? 

She could barely think of an answer before she was being lifted up by her neck, which was being squeezed with oppressive pressure, and her exposed stomach being punched repeatedly, unendingly and it fucking hurt. 

She weakly kicked out, clawing at the hand depriving her of oxygen, only to get slammed into the floor, the roofing grit digging uncomfortably into her back, her day-old tattoo adding a unique sting to the experience.

Guess they were right on a weak point, because the second time he slammed her into the ground the roof gave way, sending them both hurtling toward the earth, only a few t-beams breaking their fall.

Metal screamed and crunched beneath her as she landed on car or a truck or whatever, the twisted metal piercing her gut with acute pain, dust and rubble raining down . She didn't see where Maero landed, and she didn't need to because two large hands gripped the back of her top and the hem of her pants, launching from the hood of the truck into one of the support beams, a horrified Matt and Donnie looking on. 

Ugh. Donnie.

Unsteadily, she rose to her feet, her eyes unfocused as she launched towards Maero, teeth bared and hands bloody. Maero caught hand, spinning her around and restraining her in a choke hold. She struggled against him as he leaned forward to whisper something in her ear, his breath hot on her face.

"Your little buddy screamed like a bitch when we trussed him up." He was breathing heavily. Clearly he didn't expect her to put up that of a fight. "How about you, Bitch? You gonna scream?"

Something sharp and silver glinted, plummeting towards her neck. 

She grabbed it, or more specifically his wrist and threw her head back, feeling his nose crunch with the force of it. He must've dropped the tattoo gun with the impact because he next punch landed her face down in front of it. Grabbing it, she kicked out his knee and stabbed him just where the neck meets the collarbone. 

He let out a strangled cry, a stunned look on his face. She twisted as she removed it and kicked him down, ready to finish this with a needle to his heart. if only that idiot Matt hadn't knocked her off him. 

He was holding her awkwardly from behind as one does with only one hand. Her right arm was draped over his neck, his left was tightly around her stomach. 

She was flailing wildly, trying to get out as Maero looked at her with a vicious kind of hunger in his eyes, panic surging until she realised she had a clear shot at Matt's neck.

Something primal in her took over, and with no hesitation she bit into Matt's neck.

The first thing she felt once she realised what she'd done was disgust. Blood was pouring into her mouth, warm, salty and metallic, muscles and tendons wriggling beneath her teeth as he let out the most unholy sound. 

She pulled back, teeth clenched, pulling whatever was in her mouth with her, feeling resistance as vessels and sinew snapped thread by thread. She spat it out, the little lump of red splatting quietly to the floor.

Matt slowly crumbled to the floor, hands gripping at the hole in his throat, whilst Em just looked at Maero, shoulders hunched and tense, shaking with adrenaline, eyes unhinged, pupils dilated and dissecting, with a vicious snarl on her blood-soaked face as she spoke to him;

"_You've got until the taste of blood leaves my mouth to **die**_."

* * *

Maero got away. He got away. He got away. _He. Got. Away._

Em punched the cinderblock wall beside her, her knuckles breaking under the strain at last.

Johnny was sprinting from where he was, med-kit in one hand and shotgun in the other. 

"Boss!" He called, breaking her out of her reverie. She was still wide eyed and wild from what happened but it was shock taking the reigns now. Shock and disgust. 

"Em," He murmured now that he was closer, as not to draw the attention of the other Saints. "You okay?" He started to feel the bridge of her nose of any signs of breakage, but she waved his hand off.

"The blood," she muttered, almost numb. "It's not mine."


End file.
